Perfect
by lilvi0r
Summary: REFORMATTED - Adam is perfect and Edwin Carver has decided to claim him. Adam/OMC RAPE SLASH. Eventual Adam/Mac.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Perfect

Author: Lilvior

Rating: M

Warnings: Slash, rape, language, violence, stalking.

Pairings: Adam/OC (non-con), Adam/Mac

Summary: Adam is perfect, and Edwin Carver has decided to claim him.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Seriously.

A/N: This is my first CSI:NY fanfic, I probably need to watch a few more episodes to get a better feel for the characters. Let me know how you feel about the story, but there is no point flaming about the content because I have warned you in advance that this contains potentially disturbing material. I've reposted this first chapter as I forgot to put a disclaimer in the original (I'd say 'sue me', but I am actually concerned that someone might), and it wasn't in a format I was happy with.

-

Detective Mac Taylor had officially finished his shift over two and a half hours ago, but he held in his hand an evidence bag containing the gun that he was convinced had been the murder weapon in his current case. If this turned out to be _the_ gun, then he was facing another couple of hours writing up the paperwork, but at least then the case would be solved. If it turned out not to be the murder weapon, then he could go home to bed and return to face this same case again tomorrow. The lab was quiet, it was always quiet at changeover; his team had all packed up and gone home already, and the next shift were all still in briefings.

Mac had always felt a mild sense of distaste at the fluorescent overheads, despite their artificial effulgence; they seemed to serve to highlight just how dark it should be; like a torch shone down a dark alley. But tonight there was a deeper feeling of danger, the potential of shadows and the demons lurking within them. Shaking off childish fears, Mac continued to the ballistics lab, going over the steps of the experiment in his head. He opened the door, flicked on the light switch and was just about to place the bagged gun on the work surface when a high, surprised whimper caught him off guard and he instinctively dropped the bag and drew his own weapon.

"Who's there?" He called, cautiously side-stepping the central island and making his way towards the origin of the sound. There was no response and no further noise; could it have been a mouse? No, it had definitely been human, but the sound _had_ come from low to the ground.

A naked body was curled, completely still, in the foetal position, half under the bench, hands possibly gripping the bench-leg although Mac couldn't be sure as they were obscured by a white cotton material he knew to be a lab-coat. Mac recognised the victim instantly as Adam. His chest wasn't moving.

"No…" Mac dropped to his knees by Adam's face. "Adam!" He reached forward and touched the young man's shoulder.

Adam shuddered at the contact, whimpering again.

"Adam, it's me." He glanced over the body, looking out for injuries, some kind of evidence of what had happened. "It's Mac." But Adam held his eyes tightly closed and pressed his forehead against the back of his hand. There was blood; the majority of it was on the lab-coat and looked as though it had come from his hands, but as Mac moved around to view Adam's back, he saw thick smears of blood streaking his inner thighs. Mac's breath caught in his throat, he was suddenly torn between fury and despair. "Oh god." He muttered, returning to kneel back by Adam's face, he tried to untangle the lab-coat and pulled it back down his arms and tugged the body of it over Adam's shaking form in an attempt to restore a little of his clearly shattered dignity. Once the material had been moved away from his hands, Mac could see that they'd been restrained; his arms were either side of the bench-leg and tied tightly with a cable tie that had been cutting into the flesh of his wrists. The wounds weren't life-threatening, but would probably require stitches. Anger flared up again; someone had _dared_ to commit a crime in _his_ crime lab, had _dared_ to rape one of _his_ guys. Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as Mac pulled out his cell phone and demanded EMT support _immediately_.

"Puhns…" Adam slurred, his eyes opening a little.

"Adam, are you okay?" Mac lowered his face towards the younger man's, whilst simultaneously pulling out a pocket knife and slicing through the cable tie. Adam's wrists fell limply away from the bench-leg.

"Puhns, pehs…" His lips were dry, his pupils looked dilated: he'd been drugged - That meant that this had been planned. Adam's eyes rolled towards a dark heap under the bench.

"Pants?" Mac asked, he mentally slapped himself, of course Adam wanted more clothes on before the medical team arrived.

"Plehs." _Please_. Adam's politeness even in this situation made Mac's heart hurt, he grabbed the clothes and moved them to Adam's hands, but short of heavily laboured twitching, Adam didn't appear to be able to move.

"Do you want me to put them on for you?" Mac asked, already separating the underpants from the jeans. Adam gave a barely perceptible nod, and Mac set about dressing him. It wasn't as awkward as it should have been, Adam couldn't move and Mac performed the task so clinically that there couldn't be any emotions involved.

Once his jeans were on and his lab-coat fastened, Adam looked significantly less fragile, and Mac felt it safe to try to get him into a more comfortable position. Sitting on the floor next to him, Mac pulled Adam up onto his lap and held him gently.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you." He couldn't find the words to express how he was feeling, that burning combination of rage and misery. Adam didn't deserve this; he was a good kid, he worked so hard for Mac's approval and as far as Mac was aware, he didn't have an enemy in the world. Maybe that was what someone else had seen in him. "Do you know who did this?" He asked, knowing that whoever it was had had access to the lab, probably an employee, and had thought the act through; striking when he knew no one would be around, somehow drugging his victim, bringing the cable tie as a restraint. Had Adam been the original target? Or had he just been in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Adam frowned.

"Seen him around." His words were a little above a whisper and had no real voice to them. "He was watching me." His shoulders jumped with an involuntary sob and he turned his face and pressed it against Mac's chest, gripping his coat and crying silently.

Mac gritted his teeth, he was sorely tempted to forget about writing a police report and just go after this son-of-a-bitch himself. Absently, he began stroking Adam's hair, thinking about what he would do when he found the bastard.

After a few moments of heavy silence, the EMTs finally showed up; an older man with receding hairline, and a young blonde woman. The man promptly knelt beside Mac and asked him to tilt Adam's head so he could shine a little torch into his eyes, Mac complied while Adam lay limply against him, a far away look in his eyes.

"Can he move?" The medic asked Mac, automatically assuming Adam was incapable of speaking for himself.

"Not much, he's been drugged." Mac watched as the woman crouched down on his other side and prised one of Adam's hands out of his lapel to examine the damaged wrist.

"He was restrained?" She asked, swabbing away some of the dried blood. Mac nodded.

The older medic seemed to digest this information, putting it together with the distant, broken expression on the young tech's face, his bare chest and the socks and shoes discarded a few feet away.

"This was a sexual assault?" He asked, the slightest hint of suspicion in his voice and his eyes narrowing at Mac.

Adam's free hand clenched tighter in Mac's clothes; didn't these people realise how hard it was to pretend something hadn't happened when they're talking about it in front of you?

"I believe so, there appeared to be some bleeding." Mac held Adam tightly against himself, his expression almost daring an accusation out the old man.

"Then he needs to go to hospital, they can perform an SAE on him." He stood up and started filling out a form whilst the woman moved around to clean up the other wrist.

"He's not going to need stitches, we can just butterfly these cuts, he'll have some scars but hey, girls love emo-boys!" She let out a nervous laugh, clearly incredibly uncomfortable with the situation "Sorry. That was inappropriate." She lowered her head and stood up, letting Adam's hand fall back against Mac's chest.

Mac gave her a pitying look, her youth meant that she was probably new to this job and she didn't seem to possess the emotional competency required for dealing with delicate cases such as this one. She chewed on a nail and asked her partner if she should go get a wheelchair, he responded with an exasperated sight and asked if she really thought a wheelchair was suitable, had she considered the patient's discomfort? Eyes widened in realisation, and she apologised again.

"I don't want to go to the hospital." Adam muttered, his voice beginning to return, "It's wearing off, I'll be fine."

Mac started to feel bad; this was going to be the hard part.

"Adam, we have to go to the hospital, there's _evidence_ on you, and I need it to catch the person who did this to you."

"No." Adam started trying to twist off of Mac's lap, "I don't want anyone else touching me." His voice had taken on a determined tone, but his sniffing and inability to fully control his muscles made him sound like a child.

"It's okay, I'll be there with you, no one's going to hurt you." Mac watched with concern as Adam reached up to the work surface and tried to haul himself up onto his feet. "We can't let him get away with this." Mac closed his eyes briefly and gripped the bridge of his nose; in all the drama he hadn't noticed a migraine coming on, and now the lights were too bright and the medics were arguing over some paperwork, oblivious to their patient possibly hurting himself. Mac stood up and grabbed Adam's arm. "Can you even feel your feet?" He honestly didn't mean to shout, and the frightened, wounded look on Adam's tear-streaked face made him want to just slap himself. "Here." He put an arm around Adam's waist and let the younger man lean against him. Adam continued using both Mac and the work-top for support as he tentatively lifted his left foot up and down.

"I can feel them, I just can't control them." He bent his leg at the knee, hoping that movement would increase the blood flow and work the drug out of his system quicker. "My arms work." He let go of the work-top and tried to balance but his knees wobbled dangerously and he had to make a grab for it to keep from falling against Mac.

"Well, we're ready to go." The older medic stated, "Are you coming with us, or driving?"

Mac looked at Adam, but the tech had lowered his head and was holding tightly to Mac's coat.

"Please, Boss, don't make me go." He begged, quietly, his lips moving against the fabric of Mac's shirt. Mac's migraine was getting steadily worse, the thought of driving was making him nauseous, but he couldn't bring himself to send the poor guy off somewhere he didn't want to go, with two strangers.

"I'll take you in my car." No response. "I promise it will be as quick and painless as possible." He sighed with relief as Adam grudgingly nodded and started shuffling his feet in a forwards direction.

They were almost out of the room when Mac spotted the bagged gun still waiting just under the light switch. He cursed under his breath and fumbled his cell out of his pocket with his free hand and called a rather disgruntled Danny, instructing him to process the gun _after_ he'd processed the ballistics lab itself and Adam's coffee cup.

End of Chapter 1.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it, the next chapter will be what happened before this, so if you don't want to read the details of the attack you can skip it. I apologise in advance for the sporadic chronological gaps between the posting of chapters, I hadn't actually meant to post this one at all, I wanted to post the complete story when I've finished it, but I got drunk and when I'm drunk I crave praise and I was hoping for instantaneous feedback…


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Perfect

Author: Lilvior

Rating: M

Warnings: Slash, rape, language, violence. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SCENES THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND DISTURBING.

Pairings: Adam/OC (non-con), Adam/Mac

Summary: Adam is perfect, and Edwin Carver has decided to claim him.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Feedback: Happy reviews = good. Flamey reviews = bad.

A/N: This is my first CSI:NY fanfic, I probably need to watch a few more episodes to get a better feel for the characters.

-

Adam rubbed his eyes, trying to push his tiredness to the back of his head. He took another swig of coffee, hoping it might wake him up a bit. Officially, he was finished for the day, but he still had to complete his least favourite of tasks; writing up the lab report. Basically, he had to detail the measures he took to ensure good laboratory practice so that when the case went to court his evidence couldn't be discredited. Nitrile gloves were worn at all stages of evidence handling, work surfaces were kept sterile, the chain of custody of evidence was properly documented, all equipment used was calibrated and up-to-date, etc. He looked up at the clock and was horrified to see that almost half an hour had passed since he'd started – this shouldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes. With an angry sigh he downed the now cold dregs from his coffee cup and returned to the screen. But he couldn't concentrate, his eyes kept unfocussing and his fingers were missing the keys he was aiming for.

"I don't feel good." He muttered to the empty room; everybody else had gone home and the only sound was the drone of the floor cleaner in the hallway. His hands fell away from the keyboard as if they were weighted with lead, his head lolling forward and his breathing suddenly heavy. He tried to reach into his pocket for his cell phone, but his arms were unresponsive. "Someone… help…" He tried to stand and fell to his knees, hard.

"Are you okay?" Came a concerned voice from behind him. Adam strained to raise his head, surprised to see anyone, the guy was wearing a janitorial uniform, and Adam recognised him as one of their regular cleaners, always friendly but a little creepy.

"No." He replied, "I don't feel good." He looked up and the man smiled down at him, hooking an arm around him and hauling him up.

"Here, let me help." The guy took his weight easily, "You're Adam, right?"

Adam nodded his mind too foggy to see that they were headed away from the exit. He numbly hung from the man's shoulder and shuffled his feet in the direction he was being lead, which turned out to be the ballistics lab. It wasn't until they were in the room with the door closed behind them that Adam wondered what was going on, he frowned and tried to speak, but his vocal chords didn't seem to comply.

"My name's Edwin, but you can call me Eddie." They were in the furthest corner of the lab when Eddie gently lowered Adam to the floor. "It's so great to finally meet you properly." He lay Adam down on his back and pulled his arms up above his head, bringing them together either side of the support leg of the work bench.

_What the hell?_ Adam started to panic, his breathing speeding up and eyes widening. Eddie pulled a cable tie from his pocket and pulled it tight around Adam's wrists. _Oh god, I'm in trouble. _He couldn't move at all now, he had a vague recollection of a similar sensation when he'd drunk a spiked drink back in college; fortunately that time he'd been surrounded by his friends who'd gotten him safely to a hospital.

Eddie knelt down over him and began stroking his face, looking adoringly into his eyes.

"I've been watching you for so long." He breathed, leaning in and brushing his lips over Adam's. "You're perfect."

What could he do? Adam's brain tried to fight the weariness and think of _anything_, but he was paralysed and even if he could scream, there was no one around to hear. The psycho was unbuttoning Adam's lab-coat, but he seemed to have not thought this through properly, as he couldn't remove it completely and had to settle for bunching it up around the young tech's restrained wrists. He leaned forward and kissed him again, Adam tried to twist his mouth away, but there wasn't much he could do. Terrified, silent tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes and run down the sides of his face, pooling in his ears.

Eddie pulled a pair of scissors from his pocket and cut a straight line up the front of Adam's t-shirt, pulling the fabric to the sides to expose a hairless, undefined chest. He trailed kisses down Adam's neck and torso, pressing his lips against a pale nipple. Adam screwed his eyes closed and turned his head away, everywhere the man touched felt dirty, and he felt pathetic for being able to do precisely nothing about the violation.

"I know sex on a first date isn't exactly classy, but I know you want this as much as I do." Eddie made a point of unbuckling Adam's belt slowly and seductively. Adam's lips formed the word '_no_' over and over. This wasn't fair, this wasn't_ fucking fair_! Why was this happening to him? This was a crime lab for fuck's sake; shouldn't there be some kind of security? But the man had already undone the fly of Adam's jeans and was tugging them down his paralysed legs, pulling off the shoes and socks and carelessly tossing them away.

"The good news is that I know I don't have any disease, so we don't need protection." He moved back up the body to kiss Adam's lips again, and to stroke his face, "I'll be gentle, I promise." He smiled in a manner he probably thought was reassuring, and then slid Adam's boxers down over hips and all the way off.

_There's nothing I can do._ The thought looped around over and over until the only sane thing he _could_ do was to try to turn his brain off; to blank out what was happening. But even that was difficult, he couldn't stop the words forming in his head; _I'm about to be raped._

As an open minded guy, Adam had never ruled out the idea of having a sexual relationship with a man, in fact he'd been teased incessantly by Danny about his man-crush on Mac, but this was… This was awful. Was this what it was like for a woman? He suddenly thought about all the rape cases they'd investigated at the lab; all women. At the time they had just been cases, and whilst it was terribly sad that this happened, it hadn't been anything he could empathise with. Right now he felt their fear.

And now Eddie was touching him _there_.

"I know you're nervous." He leaned down and licked the end of Adam's flaccid cock. Then he pushed the young tech's legs apart, and, kneeling between them undid his own pants. "I'm sorry I forgot to bring lube, but you're okay if we do it without, right?" He honestly seemed to be asking permission. Adam's eyes widened in incredulity, he shook his head as much as he could. "Nah, I didn't think you'd mind." And that was when Adam realised the guy was nuts; he was acting out some fantasy in which he believed Adam was a willing lover. There was no reasoning with him, he wouldn't feel guilt, _he thought this was what Adam wanted_.

Adam desperately willed his mind to go blank, but to no avail. Unfortunately the paralysis didn't extend to numbness, and he felt the hot tip of his attacker's erection pressing against him. Unable to tighten his muscles, he was forced to just lay there, tears streaming from his eyes, as he was violated. A burning sharp pain tore through him as he was stretched beyond his capacity and the friction in the absence of any lubrication ripped him inside.

"Oh, Adam," Hearing the animal say his name made Adam feel nauseous. "You're perfect, so… _hot_… and _tight_…" From then on his sounds were mostly just groans of pleasure as he slowly pulled out and then thrust back in, all the time pausing to press kisses against any part of the helpless body beneath him he could reach.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, every time he felt the pain couldn't get any worse the bastard found a way to adjust his angle and split him further, until he could feel the heat of blood running out of him. _Please just let it end_, he begged in his mind, _let it be over soon_. Whilst the blood eased the violation, the open wounds stung and Adam knew he wouldn't be sitting comfortable for a very long time.

The ordeal continued for god-knows how long, but finally Eddie's thrusting became erratic and his nails dug into Adam's hips as he gave one last push and Adam felt the foreign muscle within him convulse and heat pooled inside his gut. In keeping with the whole charade, Eddie removed himself gently and lay on top of his paralysed victim, breathing heavily for a few moments, sloppily kissing his neck and shoulder.

"I love you so much." He panted. Then he simply got up, adjusted his clothing, and left.

Adam lay completely exposed, staring at the ceiling tiles concentrating on the throbbing in his ass, trying not to think about how he was different now. He wasn't the same person he'd been a couple of hours ago, that person was dead. So who was he now? All he wanted to do was curl up of his sofa at home with a glass of chocolate milk and his favourite cartoons. To be a child; to be innocent again. Some basic motor control was returning to his upper body, so, gripping the pole between his hands, he exerted every last ounce of energy to heave himself a short distance along the floor towards his hands and twist himself onto his side. The hard plastic cable tie dug into his wrists as he moved, he could feel the warm wetness of blood and the pain was an almost pleasant distraction from the _other_ pain. His diaphragm convulsed in an involuntary sob as he realised he was stuck here until someone found him: and then they'd know. Everyone would know. They'd pity him and convince themselves that in the same position they'd have been able to protect themselves. For the rest of his career here in New York people would look at him and say 'that's the poor guy who got raped'.

There was no clock within his line of sight, so he had no idea how long he'd been crying before he ran out of energy and fell into a sort of fugue state.

When the door opened and the light was flicked on, his first thought was that Eddie had returned, his lungs simply stopped working and he couldn't draw breath. But when he heard Mac's voice, a tired relief washed over him; of all the people in the entire world who could have found him in this state, Mac was the only one Adam trusted entirely, and knew wouldn't judge him.

End of Chapter 2

Yes, I know, they're short chapters, sorry about that. Anyone got any idea what it is about Adam that makes me want to abuse him so much? I think I'm probably just a bit sick and like to see my gorgeous men hurt and then subsequently comforted. God bless the hurt/comfort genre.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Perfect

Author: Lilvior

Rating: M

Warnings: Slash, rape, language, violence.

Pairings: Adam/OC (non-con), Adam/Mac

Summary: Adam is perfect, and Edwin Carver has decided to claim him.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Feedback: Happy reviews = good. Flamey reviews = bad.

A/N: PLOT HOLES IN THIS CHAPTER ARE THE RESULT OF SUDDEN FREEZE-THAW IN MY BRAIN AND WILL BE FILLED WHEN THE FUNDS BECOME AVAILABLE. Thank you for the reviews so far, chapters are longer now.

After much bargaining on Mac's part, Adam's examination was conducted in under ten minutes, add on top of that five minutes of blood pressure and samples being taken, the bandaging of his wrists and a nurse writing down several 'useful phone numbers' whilst lecturing Mac that the patient should not be left alone until the drug was all the way out of his system, they were in and out of the hospital in well under an hour.

"Considering how dizzy I was feeling already, did they really need to take that much blood?" Adam seemed to have regained the use of his legs, but was still hanging off Mac's shoulder for support, "I mean, I could probably find out what I was drugged with using a couple of mls, they took four vials." His voice had taken on an air of false confidence that contrasted with its normal, soft quality. He was already trying to act as though nothing of great importance had happened.

"They need to check for STDs." Mac kept his eyes focussed ahead, but he felt Adam stiffen up momentarily. The silence that followed was filled with thoughts of the test results. The car was less than twenty feet away, but it still seemed to take forever to get there. Mac pressed a button on the keys and the car responded with a cartoonish 'bleep-blip' and a flash of the headlights. He'd just manoeuvred Adam into the passenger seat and closed the door when his cell phone began to ring. Looking at the screen, he saw that it was Danny; this wasn't going to be the most pleasant of conversations. He answered the call whilst moving around to the driver's side, but didn't get into the car.

"What have you got for me?" He barked, leaning his back against the car door.

"You wanna tell me what's going on? We've got blood in here, and the residue in the coffee cup came back as ketamine, is Adam hurt?" Danny sounded more concerned and curious than pissed off at being dragged back into work at half one in the morning.

"Adam was drugged and attacked." He looked through the window and saw Adam staring directly ahead, his expression twisted into a grimace.

"Jesus Christ, in the _lab_? Is he okay?" The concern had taken on a higher pitch; everyone at the lab thought of Adam as a little brother, and although Danny enjoyed teasing him he also felt very protective of him. Mac paused just a little too long. "Mac, is he _okay_?" The pitch had increased again.

"He's gonna be okay. We're just leaving the hospital. Listen, Danny," He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then blew it out, "the hospital is forwarding the results of his SAE to the lab, and I need you to be discreet about this." There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"You mean…" Danny's voice had gone very quiet. "Oh god no." Mac could almost Danny running a hand through his hair.

"I know."

"You tell him I'm here for him if he needs anything."

"I will."

"Mac, we're gonna find the bastard who did this." There was that steely New York determination. "What about the rest of the team?"

Mac had thought all of this through as he was holding Adam's hand while he was being examined.

"I'm gonna speak to everyone else tomorrow, go home and get some sleep, it's gonna be your last chance until we get this guy."

He hung up and opened the car door, swinging himself into the driver's seat and plugging the key into the ignition. Adam still had an odd expression on his face, a kind of disgust.

"You okay?" Mac asked, for a moment he thought the young tech was going to throw up, but on closer inspection it looked more like he was just really uncomfortable. "Are you in pain?"

Adam shook his head, then shrugged, then muttered,

"Well, yeah, but I just really need to shower, I need to clean this off." He squirmed in his seat as if trying to shrug off the dirty top layer of his skin.

Mac found himself wondering exactly what had happened, he couldn't imagine it had been a simple case of the perp drugging him, dragging him to the ballistics lab, restraining him and… There were probably important details within his actions that could help them track him down. _Wait until he's had a chance to wash it off_, Mac told himself, _don't make him think about it while it's still on his skin_.

They drove to Adam's apartment building in silence, Mac remembered the location from having to drive him home after the New Year's Eve party when Adam had succumbed to one of Danny's dares and imbibed almost a whole bottle of vodka. Mac had attempted to berate him, but the poor guy had been so sick he'd been in tears, convinced he was going to die of alcohol poisoning, and Mac just couldn't bring himself to be angry at someone so scared.

He didn't seem quite so scared this time; in fact his level of despondency was increasing almost to the point of apathy. It was hard to blame him though; it must be easier to feel nothing than to have to think about that kind of intimate violation. His eyelids drooped and opened several times as the car pulled up outside the front entrance, maybe he wasn't apathetic at all, just tired after a traumatic experience.

"We're just going to go in and grab a few things, you're staying at mine tonight." Mac insisted, getting out of the car, walking around the front and opening the passenger door.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Boss, but I just want my own bed tonight." His eyes conveyed his exhaustion, and he reached a hand out for help extricating himself from the car, a sign that he'd abandoned any concept of pride. Mac gave him a consolatory smile and pulled him out of the car, patient when Adam stumbled and fell against him. "Sorry." Adam righted himself and pulled his keys from his pocket. "Thanks for everything. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then he turned and limped towards the main entrance of the building.

Mac frowned, did Adam really think Mac would just leave him? Suddenly he couldn't stop thinking about being called to this apartment building on Monday morning to identify Adam's body; it turned out the drug wasn't entirely out of his system, he passed out in the shower and drowned/cracked his skull open.

"I'm staying." He stated, following the younger man through the entrance hall. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"You really don't have to." But he sounded resigned "I mean, I don't mind you staying, but my place is kind of a mess." They walked straight past the elevator; the 'out of service' sign stuck on the door had been there for over a year, Adam had considered himself lucky that he only lived on the fifth floor, but tonight his legs were tired and he found himself relying heavily on the handrail despite his usual aversion to the germ covered thing. He motivated himself with the thought of a scalding hot shower and an entire bottle of shower gel; the prospect of feeling clean made his head spin and his feet pick up the pace.

The fifth floor was quiet and somewhat sterile looking, plain beige carpet, off-white walls, bar-lights spaced along the ceiling and seven teal doors. Adam's was the one numbered 53. 'Kind of a mess' was something of an understatement; the place was littered with pizza boxes and paper bags that held the odour of stale Indian and Chinese take-out, there were glasses on every surface, clothes hung over the back of the couch, over the radiator and over the back of the doors. The only clear space on the floor was big enough to sit cross-legged in directly in front of the TV, a video game controller beside it. Mac followed cautiously as Adam picked out the least hazardous route through the waste.

"Yeah, it's not normally this bad." Adam smiled apologetically, "There might be some food in the fridge, help yourself, I'm gonna take a shower." He grabbed a towel from off the back of a chair and disappeared through the bathroom door.

Once he heard the shower start running, Mac tried the first of the other two doors; it was a small bedroom adorned with posters of rock bands, this was where Adam had woken up this morning, before any injustice had befallen him – in a single bed with Spiderman covers. The curtains were still drawn, and the room suffered a sickly orange glow from a street light just outside the window. This was a kid's bedroom. At work Adam was professional and mature, but there had always been hints that he wasn't ready to be an adult; the ring tone on his cell phone was the Buffy theme tune and his lunch hour reading material was more often than not an X-men comic or some other graphic novel. Maybe it was that sense of youth that made Mac feel protective of him. Or maybe it was something else altogether.

He listened out for the sound of the shower, stuck on the thought that Adam could still be under the influence of the tranquilliser, but he heard nothing out of the ordinary, so decided to check out the kitchen.

The smell that escaped as soon as the refrigerator door was opened was shocking, the only things that looked even remotely edible were sealed individual tubs of jello, all boasting 'less than ten calories!', in such exciting flavours as apple-and-watermelon and raspberry-and-cranberry. Mac closed the fridge and returned to the lounge, sat down on the couch and thumbed through a two week-old TV guide until he heard the shower stop. A few minutes later, Adam joined Mac in the lounge dressed in fresh chinos and a t-shirt, he hesitated in the doorway for a moment, knowing what was coming. Mac easily read the trepidation for what it was and offered an apologetic smile before patting the sofa cushion next to him. Feigning a carefree smile, Adam hopped over a stack of DVD cases.

"Let's get this over with." He sighed and slumped down on the couch before immediately sitting bolt upright with a pained cry. He leaned forward, groaning, and Mac instinctively put a hand on his back.

"Are you okay?" He asked, trying not to take it too personally when Adam shrugged away from him.

"No, I'm not okay." The anger was starting to tighten in his chest, why couldn't this have happened to someone else? The overwhelming sense that _this wasn't fair_ was making him almost resent Mac for knowing about it, for not letting him just try to forget about it. He closed his eyes and wished it all untrue; that when he opened his eyes again, Mac wouldn't be there, his wrists would be uninjured and his ass wouldn't hurt. But when he lifted his lids everything was exactly the same.

There was an awkward silence for a couple of minutes while Adam picked at a thread hanging from the seam of his pants and Mac waited for him to speak. When it became clear Adam wasn't going to be forthcoming with his statement, Mac prompted him.

"Let's start with the coffee, what time did you make it?" Setting up a timeline would make any CCTV evaluation more relevant.

Adam didn't look up, he shrugged.

"I don't remember." A droplet of water from his still damp hair caught the light and trickled down his jaw-line, ready to fall until he turned his head slightly and wiped it away with his shoulder.

Rather than get impatient, Mac tried rephrasing the question.

"Was anyone else around when you made it?"

Adam frowned, trying to remember.

"No, Stella had just left, everyone else was already gone." He could feel the imposing desolation of the empty lab. "I figured I could get away with drinking at my workstation, I only had a GLP form to fill, then I was gonna go home."

"So you went to the break room, where was your mug?" Most of the laboratory technicians had their own mugs; Adam's was blue and illustrated with stick-figures in various sexual positions.

"Uh, on the draining board, I used it at lunch." He remembered aloud how he'd used the cheap instant coffee granules, one sweetener from the little red dispenser in the cupboard, and a dash of skimmed milk from the fridge. "That was the last of the milk." He turned and finally looked at Mac, a somewhat pissed-off expression on his face. "You know, I bought that low fat milk this morning because I'm trying to lose weight, and I got _two_ coffees out of it, why can't other people use the regular milk?"

Mac tried not to think about how ridiculous it was that Adam was complaining about people drinking his milk when he'd just been rather horrifically assaulted. Then it occurred to him that people probably _hadn't_ been using it. It seemed more likely that the attacker had tipped away most of it, drugging the remainder in the knowledge that when the carton was empty it would be thrown in the bin – having his victim dispose of the evidence for him.

Adam was still rambling on about people using his stuff, clearly delaying for as long as possible having to recall the details of the attack.

"It was ketamine, probably in the milk." Mac was thinking out loud, Adam's blood-work had correlated with Danny's analysis of the residue in the mug. Using the half-life for ketamine in an average adult male along with the levels detected in Adam back at the hospital, Mac determined the time of ingestion to be around ten thirty; allowing for around a half hour for the effects to kick in he placed the time of attack at eleven. "I didn't get back until one am…" The thought of Adam having been lying there for so long, even after the attack, was heart-breaking.

At the mention of time, Adam looked at the digital clock on the display on the DVD player; it was getting on for half past three.

"Don't you have work tomorrow, Boss?" He asked, suddenly feeling guilty for keeping Mac up, "We could always finish this some other time." He felt tired himself, and he knew if he had to tell Mac exactly what happened, he was going to cry. He'd cried in front of Mac too much already, and it took a lot of energy to act strong, right now he just wanted to climb under his duvet and hug his pillow; then it wouldn't matter how much he cried.

"The longer you put this off, the more details you'll forget." Mac felt cruel, but he knew just how easy it was to forget things if you were allowed to sleep.

"Really?" Adam looked up, a tired interest in his eyes, "You mean, one day I might forget this happened? Then maybe I shouldn't talk about it." The idea of waking up tomorrow and it all being a distant memory was so perfect he ached for it.

"You know that's not what I mean." Mac could feel the shame and despair coming off his young colleague in waves, the intense _need_ to never talk about what happened this night. "If you tell me everything now, I'll never ask about it again."

Adam sighed.

"Okay, okay." And he explained everything in a quiet monotone, unable to bring himself to repeat the words his attacker had said to him, so he left out the parts where Eddie had spoken to him. When he was finished his chest and stomach hurt and he felt so hollow and light-headed that he allowed Mac to hold him, almost falling asleep then and there.

Mac used the silence to digest what Adam had told him. He tried to recall the faces of the janitorial staff, but nothing came to mind. He tried to put himself in the attacker's position, but he couldn't fathom out how anyone could possibly have thought it was okay to do this. Then he tried to put himself in Adam's position; he tried to imagine what he would have done differently to avoid the attack, but all he could think of was his gun. But would he really have shot someone he believed was trying to help him? The situation was too confusing to think about, so he returned to the facts. There was a statistic about rape; nine times out of ten it's about violence, not sex. Maybe the suspect was someone harbouring a grudge against Adam or the lab for a previous case? It certainly seemed personal.

Mac was starting to feel the exertions of the day catching up with him, Adam's torso expanding and contracting with deep even breathing against his chest was lulling and could feel his eyelids getting heavy. It wouldn't be the most comfortable place in the world to fall asleep, but he didn't want to wake Adam when he was finally calm, and besides, his body was warm and soft, and his breath against Mac's neck was relaxing.

Suddenly Adam jerked awake.

"Sorry, I fell asleep." He apologised, his hand going to his mouth. "Ew, I think I drooled on your shoulder."

Mac smiled – the most genuine smile he'd given all evening.

"Don't worry about it. You get to bed, I'll rest here."

Adam opened his mouth to say it really wasn't necessary for Mac to stay, but he was too exhausted to argue so turned towards his room. The red flashing light on his answer-machine caught his eye, and instinctively he pressed the 'message' button.

All drowsiness and thoughts of sleep escaped him the moment he heard the voice.

"_Adam, hey, it's Eddie, I just wanted to say thanks for a great night, and to make sure you got home alright, your light wasn't on when I walked past. Anyway, I'm sure you're fine, and I can't wait to see you again. I love you, bye._"

Adam slid down the door-frame, eyes wide with panic. Mac was by his side in an instant, confusion clear in his expression. Shaking, Adam filled in the details he'd missed out; how Eddie believed they were in a relationship.

Mac cursed under his breath, he realised that this guy was going to come after Adam again, it wasn't safe to stay here, in fact it wasn't going to be safe to leave Adam on his own anywhere.

"Pack a bag, we're going to my place."

End of Chapter 3.

Sorry if anyone did themselves any serious damage in the plot-holes, but I figure the show allows for plot-holes; you know the way one week there'll be a big deal about 'we can't investigate this case 'cos someone on the team knows the vic' and then not long after that they'll forget that rule. Also, if anyone can come up with a decent excuse for why they aren't investigating the attack straight away, that would help me out a lot. Should have chapter 4 up within the week; it's written, just in the final editing stage.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Perfect

Author: Lilvior

Rating: M

Warnings: Slash, rape, language, violence.

Pairings: Adam/OC (non-con), Adam/Mac

Summary: Adam is perfect, and Edwin Carver has decided to claim him.

A/N: This is my first CSI:NY fanfic, I probably need to watch a few more episodes to get a better feel for the characters. Let me know how you feel about the story, but there is no point flaming about the content because I have warned you in advance that this contains potentially disturbing material.

o

Adam woke up in a room he didn't recognise, with sunlight streaming through the windows, the clock on the bedside table read eleven am. Slowly his brain came to life, reminding him he was at Mac's; Mac was asleep in the next room. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, he was wearing under-shorts and a vest; his sleeping attire of choice. Rubbing his eyes he pushed the door open and went into the lounge. Somehow it didn't strike him as strange that the living area was dark. Drawn, as if by some invisible ripcord, towards the master bedroom, Adam found himself turning the door handle, and stepping into the room, He could see Mac still sleeping, and figured he should wake him up considering he should have been at work an hour ago, but as he got closer, the room seemed to get darker, and Mac's eyes were already open.

There was a dark hole in the centre of his forehead.

When Adam touched it, his fingers came away bloody and shaking. His mind was foggy, but he could feel someone watching him, he swallowed hard before looking up. The grinning figure of his stalker stood in the corner across from him. His mind raced but just kept coming back to Mac's dead body with a feeling of falling. When he turned back to face Eddie, the killer was already right behind him.

"_You're mine._" He grabbed Adam's arms.

Adam screamed.

o

Mac had been convinced he wouldn't be able to sleep knowing there was someone in the spare room, and so he was surprised to find himself waking up. It doesn't take very long to wake up when you're woken up by screaming. He bolted from the bed, heart racing, already reaching for the gun he wasn't wearing, he threw open the door, rounded a corner and swung into the spare bedroom gripping the door handle.

"Adam!" He realised in a second that Adam was having a nightmare, and climbed onto the bed hoping some kind of contact would be reassuring, or perhaps just wake him up. "It's okay, you're just having a nightmare." Adam struggled against him, panic-sweats making his skin slippery, but eventually his eyes opened, and when he saw Mac there was a palpable sense of relief from both parties.

"You're alive." Adam, still lying on his back, wrapped his arms tightly around Mac's upper body, pulling him down.

Mac was quite surprised by the reaction, only too aware of how awkward this position was, but Adam didn't seem to be letting go, so Mac slid his own arms around the younger man and used the hold to roll him onto his side.

"Just a nightmare." He repeated. He could feel Adam's heart banging against his chest, heavy and fast.

"You were dead." Adam whispered, his voice held the vestiges of fear, as if the prospect of Mac being dead was his greatest fear. The younger man tried to make himself believe he could deal with it if it were so, but the thought made his chest ache with a painful familiarity.

Mac held Adam against his chest for what seemed like the best part of half an hour, but there was no time-piece within his line of sight, so an actual measurement was beyond his ability. He could feel Adam's face pressed against his shoulder, and his hands were still gripping Mac's upper arms with desperation. Mac felt that the time for propriety was certainly not now, he could almost feel the need emanating from his young colleague; the need for comfort, the need for protection, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes that he hadn't been there to provide that protection when it had truly been needed.

"I'm not dead." He stated with a dark determination. "I'm here to protect you." And he cradled Adam's head between his palm and cheek, gently rocking him until the breathing had evened out. He was slightly disturbed by the way Adam seemed to fit so perfectly against his body, his arms curled around Mac's muscled torso, and his legs, his legs were hooked around Mac's, gripping with enough desperation to cut off the circulation.

Adam murmured something inaudible into Mac's neck and seemed to fall asleep shortly afterwards. Mac found himself softly cradling this tired, abused body, with no intention of abandoning the poor boy to his nightmares, he resolved to share the bed for this one night. It was surprisingly easy to drift off to sleep with such a warm comforting weight in his arms.

o

At the noise of the alarm, Adam buried his head deeper within the combination of pillow and flesh he found to be a suitable hiding place. Upon realising he was sharing a bed, the young man looked up suddenly and was confronted with the warm, dark eyes of his boss.

"Oh!" He muttered, turning his face downwards, into the pillow, desperately trying to remember, and then forget, what series of events had brought him to this place. _Oh no,_ he thought, _life has to go on now. They're gonna treat me like a victim, analyse the evidence and solve the case._ As much as Adam wanted to see the sick fucker who'd raped him rot in prison, the thought of having to pick him out of a line-up, or even admit to what had happened in front of the others, made him feel dizzy and weak. Subconsciously, he held on even tighter to the body-warm life-raft accompanying him in the king-sized bed.

Mac had been awake for at least an hour before the alarm sounded, and he'd felt the sudden change in temperament from his young colleague. He was surprised to find himself slightly disappointed when Adam woke. He would never admit it, maybe not even to himself, but he'd enjoyed the feeling of the soft body against him; the feeling of someone who trusted him implicitly enough to sleep comfortably against him. He felt guilty at having gained any pleasure from Adam when the young man had been raped less than twenty-four hours beforehand.

"We have to get up now." He said softly, his voice croaky with sleep. "Come on."

Adam fought the urge to squeeze Mac tighter, he also tried to ignore the feeling of… safety in Mac's arms. Silently, he cursed Danny for always being right; he did have a massive crush on his boss, and now, due to circumstances he really would rather have avoided, he was in bed with the object of his affections.

"'kay." He murmured, reluctantly rolling away. He sat up carefully, biting his lip silently against the pain; it had dulled a little, but not enough. He felt the mattress move as Mac got out of the other side of the bed. They both got dressed without making conversation; both feeling a little awkward and unsure of the correct protocol in this situation.

Once fully clothed and washed, Adam joined Mac in the kitchen where he'd prepared fresh coffee.

"You know, I'm not supposed to be in work today." Adam hesitated with his hand hovering over the cream before deciding to take his coffee black. "I don't know how I feel about seeing people." He sipped at his drink, enjoying the warmth and the almost instantaneous caffeine buzz.

"Don't worry about it, I've organised something."

o

Less than an hour later they arrived at the building housing the crime lab, Mac rushed Adam through the lobby and into an elevator. When the doors opened again they were facing the morgue. Mac stepped out into the lab and Adam followed, head lowered to avoid eye contact with anyone.

"Sid." Mac called out to the pathologist who was thankfully not elbow-deep in a cadaver as yet. "Adam's going to be helping out down here today." He patted the tech on the shoulder and suggested he go get himself into a set of scrubs; unless he wanted blood and god-knows-what-else all over his chinos. Adam nodded submissively and followed directions to the morgue's locker room.

"So, are you going to explain why Adam is down here?" Sid crossed his arms and offered Mac a quizzical expression.

Mac looked towards the door to make sure Adam was out of earshot before turning back to the pathologist.

"He's going through some… stuff." He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts straight. "I need you to look after him for me, don't let him leave, if you see anything… anyone hanging around, call me. Try to keep him distracted." Mac felt a little bad about being so evasive, he knew he could trust Sid, but he wanted Adam to be able to spend the day with someone who didn't know what had happened. "I'll come back for him at lunch time." Then he made a quick exit before he could be questioned.

Sid tried to interpret the small amount of information he'd been given, but kept finding himself coming back to Mac's demeanour; his intense protectiveness of the younger man. Adam was a very timid person, his head always lowered, his hand gestures small and close to the body, his voice nervous and his general manner was that of someone who was desperate for acceptance and approval. Sid had speculated that he had probably suffered some form of abuse as a child, but he knew when something wasn't his business, and Adam did a good job up in the lab so there had never been any need to ask questions.

_Don't let him leave._ Mac's words had been deliberate, concise. _Keep him distracted._

Adam emerged from the locker room in dark blue scrubs, his khaki-clad arms tightly hugging his ribs.

"Uh, is there anything you need me to do?" His shoulders were hunched and he looked rather uncomfortable.

"That box of utensils," Sid pointed at a large red plastic case, "has just come back from irradiation, the equipment inside is completely sterilised, could you sort through it?"

"Sure." Adam was relieved to have been given a mindless repetitive task, he liked organising things. As he reached out to unclasp the clip at the top of the case his sleeve pulled back a little and the bandage on his wrist was revealed.

Sid frowned. He certainly hadn't pegged Adam as the suicidal type, but on closer inspection he saw a matching bandage on the other wrist. It would explain Mac's orders to keep him contained, and distracted.

Just then the phone rang, Adam didn't look up; he was eyeing a shiny twisted scalpel with confusion and amusement. Sid took the phone off its hook in his gloved hand.

"Pathology." He answered.

"We're bringing in a DB now, you ready?" A nameless Medical Examiner asked. Sid confirmed that they were clear to receive the body, then put down the phone and turned to Adam.

"We've got one coming in now." He wiped down the metal table with paper towels and flicked on the overhead lights. "Have you ever seen an autopsy?"

"Not a real one." Adam finished laying out the instruments and returned the box to its position by the bin. "Unless you count TV." Then he quickly added, "I mean; it was a _real_ autopsy, but it was recorded; we had to watch it for the forensic biology component of my degree."

Sid found himself wondering if witnessing a dead body being analysed limb by limb and cut into would be a positive or negative effect on the young man's mental state. Maybe seeing the degradation would put him off suicide, or maybe the sight of a fresh corpse would depress him further. Mac must have thought this through before bringing him down here, so Sid decided to trust that it was the right decision.

The body bag was delivered, unzipped and unloaded onto the table, revealing a young girl ID'd as Cadence James, sixteen years old. Primary cause of death appeared to be asphyxiation by strangulation; evident by the ante-mortem bruising on her neck.

Adam stood back from the table, feeling uncomfortable as the girl's clothes were removed and bagged.

"Could you collect trace from her hair and nails?" Sid asked, pointing out the collection equipment in a drawer. Adam nodded and soon he was raking a comb through the victim's long blonde hair, catching the dirt particles that fell out in a wide white envelope. Her nails were painted blue, but upon close inspection Adam was able to see dark blood beneath them. He carefully extracted all the material and deposited it in another labelled envelope.

While Adam was occupied, Sid was photographing the body, shining a black-light over the bruises to bring them out better in the images. He noticed further extensive bruising under the black-light, on the girl's forearms and abdomen. He prodded the abdominal area, feeling for any swelling that might have indicated that she died of internal bleeding. His fingers felt a sickeningly familiar shape.

"She was pregnant." He stated, realising with a groan that the shape of the bruises matched the toe of a boot. "Looks like someone didn't want her to have the baby."

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat, observing the dead teenager with an almost childlike expression of sadness.

"That's awful." He said quietly, his hands hanging by his sides. Part of his mind was telling him he'd gotten off easy to not have been killed last night, that he should just be damned grateful he wasn't lying on one of these metal tables being photographed and prodded and cut into. But when Sid sliced into the victim's abdomen and brought out a foetus the size of a soda can, its misshapen head hanging down to its chest, all he could think about was how this girl and her child hadn't deserved to die, just like he hadn't deserved to be raped. Liver temperature had told him the two attacks had been less than an hour apart.

His eyes caught the foetus as it was laid in one of the metal dishes usually reserved for organs or larger foreign objects extracted from the corpses. It had fingers and toes, tiny little eyelids and ears and all the features of a baby, just smaller. It probably even had all the organs it would have needed in life; tiny little replicas of adult organs. Adam's throat suddenly felt tight and his eyes stung with tears, he barely had time to turn away before tears started rolling down his face.

"Are you okay?" Sid asked, mentally scolding himself for letting Mac talk him into having Adam down here. Many people thought they had a strong enough constitution to deal with the reality of death, but it would take years of experience or a heart of stone to not be moved by a baby beaten to death within its mother's womb. "If you need to sit down, there's a bench over there." He recalled the instruction to not let Adam out of his sight, and was concerned that the young tech was going to try to escape to the bathroom. He needn't have worried, Adam raised his sleeve to his face, sniffed, cleared his throat, and then turned back to the table.

"I'm okay." His voice was a little hoarse. "I'm just… That's just really bad."

"It's terrible, but, with some help from the police, CSIs, and technicians, the person who did this will be caught and punished." Sid offered him an understanding smile. "We all work together, the first step is usually the most horrific; finding out exactly what happened."

Adam heaved a juddering sigh before nodding and looking down at the girl's face. Sixteen. He had a vague memory of being sixteen; he remembered lots of exams and studying until eleven at night. He certainly didn't remember any of his female friends being pregnant.

The rest of the autopsy was standard; organs were removed and weighed, no further anomalies detected. The body was washed down, sewn up and stored in a drawer, a label attached to the big toe of her left foot. A sample was taken from the foetus for DNA analysis, then it too was cleaned up and placed on a metal table that slid into a drawer. Had it not been so macabre it might have seemed funny; that miniature corpse on such a large expanse of steel.

Adam followed Sid to the wash-station and followed suit as the pathologist stripped off his gloves and washed his hands and lower arms. Slightly distracted, Adam didn't think about the bandages on his wrists, he pushed his sleeves up and held his hands under the stream of hot water.

"Aw crap." He moaned as the gauze absorbed water.

Sid looked at the wet bandages, then up to Adam's face.

"Do you need those redressed?" He asked, trying to keep the curiosity from his voice. The bandages were wrapped around, like gauntlets, indicating the type of wounds that might have been inflicted by someone far less informed than a biochemistry graduate. A serious suicide attempt would be characterised by a rectangle of gauze taped over a cut extending from wrist to elbow.

Adam sighed, peeling the damp fabric away.

"Yeah, thanks." He replied, hissing as the half-formed scabs stuck and pulled at his skin. He knew Sid wouldn't ask what had happened.

The pathologist retrieved a First Aid kit and handed Adam a couple of packets of anti-septic wipes, letting the tech clean his injuries himself. The cuts were on his outer wrists, deepest in the middle and becoming shallower at the ends, the insides of his wrists were bruised dark purple; very recent bruising. If Sid had seen this pattern in an autopsy his conclusion would have been that the victim was restrained against a post with something thin, hard and strong. He deliberately didn't look up as he reapplied fresh gauze and taped it in place, very conscious of Adam's discomfort.

Adam was just pulling his sleeves back down over the bandages when the door opened and Detective Stella Bonasera entered the morgue.

"I'm here for the report on Cadence James." She stated, breezing across the room towards the two men. When Sid turned and began pulling together the paperwork, Stella took a step closer to Adam and placed a hand on his shoulder. "How are you doing?" She asked quietly, giving him a small consolatory smile.

"I'm okay." Adam nodded, trying to smile back, but not really succeeding.

"Cause of death was asphyxiation by strangulation." Sid read from the file as he pulled open the drawer containing the body. "She was 28 weeks pregnant." He pulled open the adjacent drawer to reveal the foetus. "She was kicked in the gut repeatedly, presumably to destroy the infant." He passed the photographs of the bruises; both the strangulation marks and boot prints. "There are also defensive wounds on her arms."

"Why did you remove the foetus?" Stella had a look of disgust on her face.

"The abortion window had lapsed; this was a second murder." Sid responded in a very matter-of-fact manner.

Stella nodded, taking the file and thumbing through it.

"Collected evidence is all here." Adam spoke up, picking up the bag of clothing, and the trace samples. "There was blood under her nails; hopefully she got a piece of the son-of-a-bitch who killed her." He felt bad for not being of any more use – upstairs he would have been the one running the DNA through codis (Combined DNA Index System – just for anyone who's been wondering), or matching the footwear of potential suspects against the bruises, or anything useful that would help them catch the murderer. But today that would be someone else's job, and that just made him feel a little too replaceable.

"Thanks guys." Stella closed the file and tucked it under her arm, grasping the bags of evidence in one hand. She nodded a farewell at Sid and once again offered Adam a sympathetic smile, before turning and leaving.

Sid narrowed his eyes in contemplation; clearly whatever it was that had happened to Adam, Stella was aware of it. But then a call came in that there were two more bodies on their way in, from two separate scenes, and the decks had to be cleared and prepped, leaving no time for speculation.

o

They were half-way through the autopsy of the first of the new arrivals – a priest in his late fifties, suspicious heart-attack – when Mac returned.

"How're you getting on?" He asked, observing Adam's hands within the open chest cavity of the corpse. "Looks like you're having fun."

"Uhm, give me a sec." Adam carefully lifted the heart out of the priest, rested it in the cradle of the scales and read the weight out to Sid, who wrote it down on a form. "We just need to look for valve anomalies." It was oddly soothing to look at life – or death – from a purely physiological viewpoint, and Adam was almost starting to enjoy himself… so long as there were no more dead babies to look at.

"You can go now, I've got this." Sid put down the form and picked up the heart. "I'll see you after lunch."

"Are you really going to be able to eat after that?" Mac asked, although Adam couldn't tell if it was humour or concern in his tone. As they left the morgue, Adam having taken a little more care this time when he washed his hands, they discussed lunch.

"Not really hungry." Adam shrugged, his footsteps slowing considerably as they neared the main entrance, nervous of seeing any of his colleagues.

"How long has it been since you ate something sensible?" Mac didn't want to be judgemental, but he'd seen what Adam had been living off lately; fast-food and diet-food. The kid had been in need of someone to look after him since long before last night.

Adam shrugged again.

"C'mon, I know a place."

o

End of Chapter 4

A/N: This thing is starting to hit a wall. I predict another two or three chapters in total, but I cannot promise any kind of timescale for posting. Next chapter will be the investigation; let's see if New York's Finest can track down our evil cleaning guy…


End file.
